


i know what it looks like from the outside

by dangercupcake



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:33:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangercupcake/pseuds/dangercupcake
Summary: Sid's a force of nature. You don't kiss a force of nature.





	

When Nate gets out of the shower, Sid is lying on his bed. The wrong way, with his bare feet on the pillows.

"You know, if you lie this way, it's like I'm looking at you," Sid says, staring at the giant poster of himself from the 2009 Cup win.

The only thing to do is completely ignore this conversation and not mention Nate slept like that for a long time. "I thought today was canceled," Nate says, pulling clothes out of drawers, because his mom still folds his laundry and puts stuff away for him.

"I want to go hiking. You know how many letters I get about people who sleep like this and . . ." Sid makes a jerk-off motion and Nate feels himself blush all the way to his ears. He keeps his back to Sid while he changes. Jesus.

"How old were you in 2009?" Sid continues. "Twelve? Too young for that, eh?" Sid yawns. "Your bed is really comfortable. Let's stay home and let your mom feed us instead."

"I was fourteen, dumbass." Nate sits down at the pillow-end, where Sid's feet are, and throws a pillow at his face. "Sidney Crosby, can't do math unless it's Corsi, there's a headline for ya."

"Oh, fourteen, so you _were_ jerking off to my face!"

"Nah, 2009 was Tanger's year," says Nate, and Sid comes up to suffocate him with the pillow. He refuses to say uncle until he feels himself getting kind of hard -- wrestling with Sidney Crosby in his childhood bed, under the childhood posters, where he jerked off thinking about _this very thing_ , but also the way Sid expertly skated, shrugged off everyone else on the ice to sink the puck deep.

Nate could probably count on one hand the number of times he thought about actual _sex_ while jerking off. Hockey was too hot.

"Okay, fuck, uncle, asshole."

Sid flops over and grins. "Imagine some fourteen-year-old kid is out there right now with a poster of you on his ceiling, jerking off thinking about the great Nate MacKinnon from Cole Harbour."

"Hey, could be a girl," Nate counters weakly.

Sid barks with laughter. "Sure. Sure, could be a girl. Could be a girl."

They're quiet for a moment and Nate thinks: This could be it. I should lean over and kiss him. I should do it. I should touch his shoulder. I should do it.

Then Sid sits up and says, "Come on, let's go see what your mom has on for breakfast, eh? I feel like I ate a hundred years ago."

Nate doesn't even feel disappointed. Sid's a force of nature. You don't kiss a force of nature. Not really. You just stare at it, marvel at it, let it pummel you in all the ways it can find.

"I bet she'll make those waffles you like with chia seeds if we're nice."

"I'm always nice!"

"Oh, haven't I heard this before, I'm Sidney Crosby, everyone loves me, even babies, even _Claude Giroux_ loves me now --"

"Oh, shut up, I'm gonna tell your mom you're being mean to me and you won't get any waffles --"

They bicker all the way to the stairs. Force of nature.

And Nate tucks a little reminder in his head to take down that poster.


End file.
